Shadows Tell No Secrets
by Narada
Summary: My first Fillmore fic. Summary was superlong so look for it in Chapter One. Chapter 7 is up up UP!
1. The Unveiling

_**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT IN ANY WAY OWN FILLMORE OR ANYTHING RELATED TO FILLMORE. I DO, HOWEVER, OWN SHADE AND ALL CHARACTERS RELATED TO HER. ANY SIMILARITIES BETWEEN THEM AND ANY OTHER CHARACTER ARE PURELY COINCIDENTAL.**_

_**SUMMARY: Someone has vandalized a mural of Principal Folsom made by the art club. While Fillmore and Ingrid are searching for the perp, Fillmore begins receiving helpful tips from Shade, a femme fatale at X who will stop at nothing to keep her identity hidden. But there's one problem: whoever vandalized the painting is equally determined to silence Shade. Can Fillmore and Ingrid find out who Shade is before the perp finds out first? (PG for one slightly inappropriate remark in Chapter 2)**_

Practically every student at X Middle School were gathered around a particular section of the hallway, where Principal Folsom stood next to a velvet rope, ready to show what was behind the light tan veil on the wall.

"And without further ado, it is my honor to present our art club's newest masterpiece!"

She pulled the velvet rope downward, letting the veil drop down to the floor.

All of the students stood dumbstruck at what they saw, and there were even a few snickers in the audience.

Folsom's hearty smile faded fast.

"What?"

She looked across the audience, as dumbstruck as the people she was looking to. Her focus than turned to the painting.

"What's the matter with you people? It's a perfectly lovely- **what the-?!**"

For obvious reasons, she joined the audience in staring.

The mural was indeed of Principal Folsom, as planned, but fresh marker ink showed that another artist made some last-minute changes.

In the mural, Principal Folsom smiled down on the onlooking students, but someone had painted her teeth a rotten yellow and drawn a small goatee on her chin. The mural's face had airbrushed liver spots all over, and dirt was painted on Folsom's shirt in the same manner.

Folsom growled and turned toward the quiet man behind him.

"Raycliff! Get me the safety patrol! And make it snappy!"

"Yes ma'am." Without another word from either of them, Raycliff walked off like a silent ghost down the hall.

The screen door to his destination was easy to find, mainly because of the writing on the glass: X MIDDLE SCHOOL SAFETY PATROL HEADQUARTERS AND GLEE CLUB ANNEX. Opening the door, he immediately approached Vallejo's desk.

"Folsom wants you in her office…immediately."

Without a single word more, he left, leaving Vallejo no time to ponder. Instead, Vallejo immediately sent for Cornelius Fillmore and Ingrid Third.

As Fillmore and Ingrid left for Folsom's office, a dark figure, almost like a shadow, eyed Fillmore like a panther eyeing its prey.

Before any of the safety patrol officers took notice of the figure, it seemingly disappeared into the darkness of the hall, never taking its eyes off Fillmore for a second.


	2. A Shade of Grey

Before long, Fillmore and Ingrid were both examining the not-so-marvelous mural. O'Farrell, meanwhile, did nothing but laugh his brains out.

"Haha whoever did this really likes jokes!"

Ingrid turned toward him, raising an eyebrow. O'Farrell got the message and calmed down.

Fillmore, however, focused more toward the fallen tarp than the mural.

"Check this out." He called toward Ingrid, who quickly ran toward him, crouching down to his level.

"What?"

Fillmore ran the thick sheet through his hands, displaying every inch of it to his partner.

"The mural's all messed up, but check out the tarp."

She did, and quickly looked back up at Fillmore.

"Is this some kind of joke? There's nothing there."

"Exactly!"

Needless to say, Ingrid was beginning to think Fillmore had lost it.

"There's nothing on the tarp. Big deal."

Fillmore sighed. This was harder to explain than he thought.

"It means that the mural was messed up some time before it was covered."

The two looked to each other, then focused toward Sophie Nix, the official artist of the mural, and shy little Cammie Nix, Sophie's twin sister. Fillmore stepped up to Sophie.

"Anyone have access to the painting before it was covered?"

"Only the rest of the art club." Sophie shrugged, looking just as innocently clueless as the girl next to her. "Why?"

Fillmore paused a bit. His eyes were still on Sophie, but they didn't seem to see her windblown black hair, her ice blue eyes, her white shirt with autumn leaves on it, or anything else about her. After a moment of pure silence, he then focused back toward Sophie.

"Uhh, no reason."

"Well anyway," Sophie smiled a bit, "I better get back to class. Torvald asked us to meet him there for group work."

With that, she and Cammie left for the classroom. Fillmore, however, went back to examining the crime scene, which, oddly enough, he had already gone through three times that day. Ingrid looked toward him.

"Stop pushing yourself too hard. Honestly, you've been thinking of nothing but this case all day."

"It's my job." Fillmore walked a few inches away from her. "I can't just let it go."

"Ever stop to think you have another job? One that's more important than anything else?"

Without even waiting for an answer, Ingrid left.

**----------------One hour later----------------**

Fillmore was getting a bit tired of this. It had been what seemed like the whole day, and the only clue he got was that there was no paint on the tarp. But no matter how things didn't look good, he still kept trying.

His search was cut short when a voice said…

"How's it coming, officer?"

Fillmore, having spent most of the day on the case, was easily caught off guard by the smooth, sensual voice. He looked around to find where it came from, but all that he saw was a faint shadow on the ground. The voice laughed.

"It's OK. I'm not going to hurt you."

The source of the voice emerged, revealing a slim girl, about Fillmore's age, wearing nothing but black. The icy blue eyes of the girl looked straight at him, but they didn't seem to be hostile. As they peeked from above the black veil that was wrapped around the rest of her face, her black-gloved hand brushed back her black hair.

Fillmore slowly got up at the sight of her.

"Who are you?"

The girl put one hand on her hip.

"Typical. We just met, and already you want to know about me. Well OK. My name is best left a secret, but you can just call me Shade."

Fillmore then took a step toward Shade.

"What're you doing here so late anyway? What's going down?"

Shade looked down to check the distance between her and Fillmore.

"That's awfully close, officer. Are you trying to make a move on me?"

Fillmore backed up, annoyed.

"Anyway, what are you doing here?"

Shade shook her head.

"I won't tell you that much. All I'll tell you is this: check the studio of the art club president if you want a lead."

Fillmore stood deep in thought.

"O…K. Anything else?"

Shade laughed.

"Sorry officer, but shadows tell no secrets."

With that, she walked back into the shadows and, almost instantly, she was gone.


	3. Airbrush

The next day, Fillmore decided to take Shade's advice. So there he was, in front of the door to the art club's main enclave, and he knocked once on the door.

Almost immediately, Torvald Emerson, the self-appointed president of the art club, opened the door. His long brown hair swished a bit to the side as he looked down at Fillmore like a maid eyeing a lump of filth before cleaning it.

"What do **you** want?"

Fillmore showed the snob his badge, and since it made his first sentence obvious, he got to the point.

"Got an anonymous tip that your studio has something I wanna see. Mind if I take a look?"

Torvald rolled his eyes and got out of Fillmore's way.

"Uhhh…OK."

He then looked to one of the more scrawny artists, who simply turned away from Torvald and focused on a new painting.

Fillmore saw this, but then focused toward why he came here.

As Torvald slowly drew up the curtain that led to his studio, Fillmore turned to what he thought would make more of a clue: Torvald's airbrush.

Just as he thought: on the nozzle of the airbrush was light brown paint, the same color as the dirt airbrushed on the mural's clothes, with tiny specks of cherry oak paint, the same color as the liver spots on the mural's skin.

"Disco." He whispered to himself as he quickly put the nozzle in his pocket.

Needless to say, Torvald didn't look too pleased as he saw Fillmore eyeing the airbrush, so Fillmore simply got up and walked away without looking all that suspicious.

Torvald, however, didn't seem fooled, even when he approached Fillmore with a warm smile as Fillmore approached the door.

"So, did you find anything?"

Fillmore simply mimicked Torvald's smile.

"Maybe, maybe not."

Torvald chuckled a bit and pat him on the back.

"Well you're welcome to come back anytime."

As he said that, Sophie got up from her easel.

"Uhh, Torvald? Could I be excused for a bit?"

Torvald turned back toward her.

"OK. Mind checking on where Cammie is too? She's late!"

Fillmore turned his gaze to Sophie, then back to Torvald.

"I-I'll be goin' now."

With that, he left on his way to headquarters. But before long, he paused when he heard Cammie from the end of the hall.

"Help! Let me out of here!"


	4. When Good Shades Go Bad

Caught off guard by Cammie's screams, Fillmore ran further down the hall, looking for wherever Cammie could have been.

Apparently, Cammie had been locked in the janitor's closet. But it wasn't who was behind that door that surprised Fillmore. It was who was locking it.

Shade was there, sealing up the door with a few old pieces of silly string.

"Sorry hon but I can't risk you trying that again."

With that, Shade ran up toward the other end of the hallway, where Fillmore was quick to grab onto her hand. He glared straight at her.

"**What was that about man?? She'd never do anything to hurt you!"**

Shade narrowed her eyes down to slits and yanked her hand back.

"Oh so I'm just supposed to **let** the little creep rat on me? Sorry officer, but as long as the vandal is out there, I can't take any risks."

"You know what?" Fillmore wasn't swayed. "I'm tired of all your riddles! If you're gonna help, you'll do it straight up, starting now!"

He reached for Shade's veil, but Shade brought up her own hand and swept Fillmore's away.

"I said I can't afford the risk…and I **wasn't** kidding."

After a moment's pause between both of them, Shade simply turned to leave, then looked back at Fillmore.

"But I suppose you're right. I haven't been very clear-cut with you all this time. So from now on, I'll give it to you straight. There's a little note from me back at Safety Patrol HQ. It has a few details on the vandalism along with where I'll be the rest of the week."

That was all Shade said before she walked away. Fillmore returned to help Cammie out of the janitor's closet.

"Now Cammie, what happened back there?"

Cammie slowly backed away.

"I don't know. That girl back there, all I did was ask why she doesn't take off that veil she has on, but then she snapped and shoved me in there."

**----------------------------2 periods later, Safety Patrol HQ----------------------------**

Fillmore had just returned to HQ, where Ingrid was quick to stand up.

"Hey Fillmore, someone left this for you."

She handed him a note sealed with a sticker in the shape of a red rose. Fillmore raised an eyebrow before opening the note, which had a stylized rose drawn beneath the text. The note itself read:

"Remember the clue I said was in Torvald's studio? You think it may lead to Torvald? Well think again. All that thing proves is that Torvald had it recently, but if you want info on who **really** used the airbrush on that painting, meet me over by the cafetorium after hours.

Sealed with a kiss,

Shade

PS: If you decide to meet with me at the cafetorium, don't bring any friends, other officers, or anyone else. Bring only yourself."


	5. Busted

Fillmore's eyes stayed on Shade's letter for about an hour. The cafeteria? After hours? What exactly was she getting at?

Vallejo was quick to cut his train of thought short.

"Hey Fillmore. Folsom called, and she ain't lookin' too happy."

**15 minutes later, Folsom's office**

"Listen Fillmore," Folsom leaned toward Fillmore from the other side of her desk, "lately all you ever gave me were **results**. Let's try to keep it that way, hmm?"

Fillmore sighed and leaned into his chair, matching Folsom's distance.

"Well I ran into a lead, but I can't-."

Before he could finish his sentence, O'Farrell entered, waving Shade's letter wildly in the air.

"Fillmore's got a girlfriend, Fillmore's got a girlfriend…!" 

In slight shock, Fillmore ran past Ingrid, who was sitting in the chair opposite his, and struggled to grab the letter.

"How'd you get your mitts on that? Give it back!"

O'Farrell didn't answer, but ran to a corner with the letter and began to read it aloud.

"Meet me at the cafeteria **after hours**? Ooooh, sealed with a **kiss**! So Fillmore, this Shade got a sister? **Rrr-ow!**"

As Fillmore finally snatched the letter and returned to his seat, Ingrid couldn't help focusing toward him.

"Who's Shade?"

Fillmore sighed heavily. The cat was out of the bag, so why cover it up anymore?

"She says she knows who messed up Folsom's mural, but she won't tell me straight up. Heck, she won't even tell me who she is!"

"She will," Folsom was **really** to-the-point now, "unless, of course, she wants to be banned from the premises."

Fillmore almost laughed, but it was a far cry from even cracking a smile.

"Don't bother. She says she'll spill everything over at the cafeteria after hours."

Ingrid was quick to answer.

"Then I'll go too."

"You can't." Fillmore shook his head. "Shade specifically asked that I go alone. Probably 'cause she's afraid someone'll try to take off her mask."

But Ingrid still didn't back down.

"Just because **she** wears a mask doesn't mean **you** have to. She'll either tell both of us or neither of us. It's her choice."

**5:30 PM, Cafeteria**

Fillmore and Ingrid entered the empty room that was the school cafeteria two and a half hours ago. It didn't take Fillmore any more than that first second to realize that they were the only ones there.

"Dawg! I can't believe she'd play me like this! Ingrid, I'm sorry I took you along for nothing, I-."

He was interrupted by that all-too-familiar voice:

"I thought I told you to come alone."


	6. Interrupted Truth

Fillmore turned back the minute he heard that voice.

"Shade! How-?"

"The front door." Shade interrupted.

Ingrid looked around, annoyed to find that Shade was nowhere in sight.

"Shade, where are you? You said you'd give it to us straight,"

"I also told your little friend to come alone. Twice the officers make for twice the risk."

Fillmore huffed.

"Come on Shade. It won't be any different from last time. I promise."

Shade sighed.

"Well I suppose I'll take your word for it."

With that, she stepped out of the shadows, her all-too-familiar veil fluttering a bit.

Ingrid held her breath as Shade gestured a hand toward the veil. Shade sighed.

"You were right officer. I haven't been very straight with you, so I may as well-."

Before she could pull off the veil, the door opened, and in walked two guys wearing George Bush latex masks. One of these guys motioned toward Shade.

"Hmm so **you're** the one we've heard about. Mind if the three of us go out for a little walk?"

Shade slowly backed away from them, until she found herself up against the kitchen entrance. Fillmore and Ingrid followed, in case Shade needed the help.

But apparently, she didn't. She reached for an EvianTM bottle.

"Uhh, could I offer you gentlemen a glass of **water**?"

Shade quickly shot some of the water in each guy's eyes and ran for the hallway, prompting Fillmore and Ingrid to follow. Fillmore was quick to catch up with her.

"Shade, wait!"

Shade slowed down just enough to look Fillmore in the eye.

"This is why I can't be straight with anyone! Not you, not your little partner…" She sighed. "…Not even myself."

At around that time, the two guys were catching up fast. Running for the kitchen door, Shade eyed a bag of flour and knocked it to the ground, creating a little smoke screen behind herself, Fillmore, and Ingrid. She looked to Ingrid.

"There's a little portrait by Clarice Wilson in the art club. There you'll find everything I was going to say tonight."

As the two guys slowly approached the kitchen, Ingrid clasped Shade's hand.

"Where's the portrait, Shade? What does it show?"

Shade quickly but gently wrenched her hand free.

"Shadows tell no secrets."

With that, she pushed up a faulty tile in the ceiling and climbed up, placing the tile back as she fled. Fillmore tried to see where she went, but it was no use: she was gone.


	7. The Shadow's Secrets, Revealed

**------------------The Next Day------------------**

Fillmore and Ingrid approached the door to the art club once more. Torvald was quick to answer the door, but he looked different than last time. He seemed nowhere near the strict leader that he usually was, and there was a slight quiver in his voice as he spoke.

"Uhh…hi officers. C-can I help you?"

Ingrid cleared her throat.

"Do you have any portraits by a 'Clarice Wilson'?"

Torvald slowly nodded, then turned to approach the archives.

"Erm, right this way."

He opened the cabinet and pulled out a file labeled 'Wilson, Clarice.'

"Well…here's the file. Which picture did you have in mind?"

Both officers paused. Then Fillmore remembered: every time Shade had spoken to him, she said 'shadows tell no secrets' just before making her departure. What if she was trying to tell him something? Finally, he snapped out of his trance.

"Anything along the lines of 'shadows tell no secrets'?"

Torvald's scaredy-cat attitude became much more enthusiastic when he heard those words.

"Shadows tell no secrets? Ah yes, you want 'The Shadow's Secrets'. Coming right up!"

Torvald turned to the studio once more and returned with one picture, placing it on the easel.

"OK, here you go."

Fillmore's eyes popped at the sight of the picture.

A bright white moon blinded Fillmore for about an hour, after which he took in the darkly mountaintop standing before the delicate brushstrokes used to paint the moonlight. Still, the night sky of the picture was so dark that he could hardly notice the slender young girl dancing in the moonlight.

Fillmore shook it off and began looking around the picture frame, but looking for nothing in particular. Then, something seemed to brush against his finger. In slight surprise, he looked to Torvald.

"Uhh we might be here a while. Don't wait up."

"Fine by me." Torvald shrugged and returned to his studio.

Ingrid watched him leave before looking back to her partner.

"What is it?"

In answer, Fillmore pulled out a used paintbrush with a disgusting yellow still on its tip. Ingrid raised an eyebrow before reading the note attached to the brush.

"Torvald may not be easy to scare

But your perp has made him more aware

Of his pitiful grades. But fear not, little lamb

For now you know who I am."

In place of a signature, there was a sticker of a red rose lying on its side. Ingrid handed Fillmore the note.

"What do you think it means?"

Fillmore raised an eyebrow at the sight of the rose before looking briefly back at the painting.

It was then that he noticed the girl dancing in the picture's moonlight.

"Disco!" He whispered in both awe and shock.

It was Shade.


End file.
